The Romantic
by Teenage Mouse
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is not a cynic. He's just a romantic living in the real world, and he knows he has to be logical sometimes. So when he decides True Love probably isn't going to find him, it only seems logical to build the perfect partner for himself, in the form of a personal android named Alfred. (Of course, as a romantic, Arthur should have known logic and love don't mix.)


~ The Romantic ~

Arthur Kirkland was not a cynic. He was a romantic.

He harboured fanciful ideas of finding a soul mate and falling in love and living happily ever after. But Arthur also knew that in this world, hopes like that were _dangerous_. They were like a time bomb left in your pocket, tick-tick-ticking slowly, one day after the other, so quiet and mesmerising that you forget the threat is even there. And then _**BAM**_! One day you find yourself on your death-bed and you realise those things never happened. You spent your whole life _waiting_, and it never came true. That's when the time bomb explodes, and it's the last thing you ever think. "I never found love."

He _was_ a romantic. He _believed_ in happily ever after. He just…didn't really think it could happen in this world.

All right, it sounded hypocritical, but it was his truth. Love exists but that doesn't mean it's going to _happen_. Certainly not for everybody and, if that was the case, then why would it happen for _him_ of all the other billions of people on Earth?

How did _anyone_ find the perfect person? How could another half of you exist and be living its own life? Surely you'd find each other sooner rather than later if you were really meant to be together?

By the time Arthur was 30, he realised he didn't care about finding the answers to those deep, searching questions. All that really mattered were the facts: he was still alone, he didn't want to be, and, in all likelihood, One True Love was not going to come wandering into his life out of the blue.

And so Arthur Kirkland came to a decision – one that had been nestled at the back of his mind for the past decade or so, a promise he whispered to himself over the years in case things didn't work out on their own.

Arthur Kirkland would buy a persocom, and _they_ could be together.

Yes, it was slightly pathetic. Even though human-android partnerships were no longer as shocking as they had been those first few times, it was still not something mothers wanted for their children, and friends and co-workers would be sure to laugh behind your back about it.

But Arthur had never really cared what people thought of him anyway. He just wanted to be in love, be _together_ with someone rather than on his own. And if it had to be with an android then so be it. He wasn't wasting another day _waiting_.

And besides, building his perfect partner from scratch sort of made sense to Arthur. What better to way to find your soul mate than to make them yourself? Surely that was the only way it was really possible, anyway. Arthur just felt the whole thing seemed more rational than falling in love with a random stranger - for who could blame you for falling in love with a partner you _designed_? So although Arthur was prepared for backlash from his few close friends and family, he found it easy to forget about them.

And so he set to work.

He wasn't a mechanical person himself, so in the days following his thirtieth birthday, he began learning everything there was to know about customised persocoms. He trawled forums, read articles, visited websites, watched videos…There was a lot to take in, and he needed this persocom to be _perfect_ if he planned to spend the rest of his life with it.

After a while, Arthur fell in touch with a persocom expert/enthusiast named Kiku Honda, from Tokyo. He was as helpful as he was polite, and the two men soon found themselves getting along famously. Kiku was clearly some sort of genius when it came to programming and designing persocoms – even Arthur could see that and he still knew next to nothing about the whole thing. But as a friendship naturally flourished between them, Kiku didn't seem at all averse to sharing his expert knowledge with an amateur like Arthur. He was so passionate about persocoms that he often just seemed glad to have someone to talk to, even if Arthur didn't understand most of his lectures.

Kiku had worked for Kaede Co., the company who produced the first persocoms back in the 20s, and who still remained titans of the android market. They'd hired Kiku right out of university, but he'd just felt too stifled at Kaede Co.; he was honestly gifted when it came to programming persocoms, and he wanted more control and freedom over his projects. So Kiku now worked for a smaller company, doing what Arthur gathered to be none-too-legal persocom development, judging by the way Kiku kept so blatantly quiet about his career.

Luckily for Arthur, he also built customised persocoms on the side – merely as a weekend hobby that earned him a whole extra (astounding) wage.

**(16:04) Arthur_Kirkland: **Are you sure you're not too busy? Honestly, Kiku, I absolutely won't mind if you can't take on the project. You don't have to worry about offending me. I only asked on the off-chance. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to have someone with your skill working on my persocom when he'll be so important to me.

**(16:06) Honda_Kiku:** Arthur, I would not have agreed to the job if I didn't intend to do it. It's not troublesome for me at all. I've told you already I am very excited to do this project, for both our sakes. I agree that someone like me should work on your persocom: someone who cares just as much about making the perfect persocom as the customer who plans to love it.

**(16:06) Arthur_Kirkland:** I know you build persocoms for regular people sometimes, but I just feel like I'm wasting your time with something so simple. It's hardly going to be interesting for someone with your talents. So if you ever get asked to take on something more challenging and exciting, then please don't hesitate to drop my request and work on that instead.

**(16:09) Honda_Kiku:** You do not seem to understand. This project is incredibly important to me. To make a persocom who is able to return love and has the freedom to grow as a person: that is my dream. You have given me the opportunity to try it, and I am grateful to /you/, Arthur.

They had the same conversation countless times, over text, phone, video chat, email – Arthur apologising again and again for asking Kiku so mundane a task, but he just couldn't pass up the opportunity. Kiku was amazing at his work, especially because he was _passionate_ about it. And Arthur thought it would be wonderful for the designer to care as much about the persocom being built as the customer did. Kiku obviously felt something similar because he agreed immediately, saying that he would be proud to build a persocom for someone who would cherish it the way it deserved.

_ "We've made such great progress in giving persocoms the ability to develop likes and dislikes and personalities. But I want to see how far they can evolve over the years. I dream of a day when they can be their own person, __react on their own, _make their own decisions, when they can surprise the humans around us just as much as we do each other."

Arthur nodded vigorously in agreement, though Kiku couldn't see him over the phone. "Yes, exactly! I mean, as you've said before, it wouldn't need to be _every_ persocom, like those bought for work. But there are plenty of people like me who want someone special, and if I want it to be a persocom then I should be able to choose that option, and know I'm picking someone who will still fill that role in my life like a regular person."

Arthur remembered when he was little, and he'd actually found persocoms scary. Robots disguised as people. You couldn't always tell who was real and who was not these days. It was like an episode of Doctor Who, and he'd been terrified. Of course, he knew about the Absolute Laws of Robotics, a flawless circle that meant persocoms could never _ever_ hurt a living thing unless someone was in real danger. But what if the laws got erased from the persocoms' memories somehow? What if there was a mass malfunction? And besides the obvious physical danger...what about people caring more about persocoms than they did each other? What if his father fell in love with that persocom at his work, because she was _made _to be so pretty? What if he, himself, fell in love with someone in the future, but they left him for a persocom, because it's built to be flawless?

[To: Kiku Honda (090-2525-1151)

From: Arthur Kirkland (0781-5815-8537)

Things certainly have changed, haven't they. I remember being terrified of persocoms because I didn't understand how people would still care about /each other/ when persocoms were perfect. And now I'm one of those people I always worried about.]

[To: Kirkland Arthur (0781-5815-8537)

From: Honda Kiku (090-2525-1151)

You are not a bad person, Arthur, nor a failure for wanting a persocom as a companion. A lot of people had the same fears as you in the past, but look how the future has played out. People still care about /people/ the most because there is just something fundamentally necessary for humans that can only be found in each other. It's missing in androids, and it always will be. Kaede Co. keeps persocoms simple to make sure they stay electronics and not a new species. And even though some of us, like me, want to see how far we can push persocoms, humans will always need each other the most. I don't worry that persocoms will take over our places in each other's lives.]

Kiku was very good at assuaging his fears like that.

Arthur wasn't throwing away all human companionship – he would still need and love his mother, his brothers (begrudgingly), his friends and colleagues (sort of). And when it came to The One, the person you love, most people were going to want another human: someone who could be an independent force in their life and not a lifeless robot, someone who could be a mother or a father to your children, someone who could challenge and push you and make your life exciting, someone who could genuinely choose you over any other of their own accord. Someone who could really love you back.

And, well, when he thought of it like that, sometimes Arthur _did_ get a bit sad, and felt like he was giving up on life and love.

But no! It wasn't as hopeless as all that. So maybe Arthur _would_ be missing out on those things, but that didn't mean he couldn't be happy. Kiku was doing his best to build him a persocom who could love him back – or care about him, at least. And all Arthur really wanted was to be in love himself. It was almost better that the burden of his love wouldn't be thrust on someoneelse. He and his persocom could be very happy together, forever. _Plus_, it would be pushing the boundaries of what persocoms could do. Arthur and Kiku were helping to break down the limits of technology, to show just how much the human race could accomplish. Not everybody would want what Arthur was aiming for, but they would be interested to see it if it worked.

To: arthur. ignatius. kirkland btinternet. co. uk

From: honda. kiku 25 akb48web . co. jp

Message: Apologies for a slight delay

Arthur –

I have finally received the blue eyes from my supplier. I know you were worried about getting a more natural shade and not the usual bright persocom eye colouring, and I am sure you will be pleased with the result. It was hard finding someone who makes more human persocom parts, as outlandish styles are becoming more and more popular these days. Although such persocoms are fun, I am excited to make a very human persocom for you, so it's not troublesome for me to find the right parts.

I do, however, have to inform you that I have run into a slight delay in programming. I am keeping to your specifications on the personality but, as you know, we both want Alfred to be able to grow and develop as a person over time. Recently, I noticed a glitch in the system that would make it easy reset and randomise Alfred's personality traits, and to prevent accidents, I am now working on fixing that issue so that Alfred will always stay the same and be Alfred.

Although it's been over a year since we started talking and I took on this project, I have been taking my time so that we can both be satisfied with the end result. I know I have been taking a long time programming your persocom, and I am sorry to have caused you any trouble. Please forgive me for being so slow.

– Kiku

To: honda. kiku 25 akb48web . co. jp

From: arthur. ignatius. kirkland btinternet. co. uk

Message: Re: Apologies for a slight delay

Kiku,

There's absolutely no need to apologise. I've told you many a time before, and it will always be true. I am ever in your debt for taking on the project in the first place, and I can't blame you at all for taking your time – first, because other people would take longer (or not be able to accomplish at all), and second because I know you are taking your time to work hard on the details to make Alfred perfect. I am truly grateful, and will be forever, I'm sure. That offer of flying you to London to celebrate after the project is still on the table if you want it. I understand if you are busy with work and side-projects, but if you ever want to come and visit Alfred and make sure you're satisfied, then don't hesitate to drop in. I will also be glad to meet you in person one day.

The blue eyes sound fantastic, thank you so much for your hard work in tracking down the right pieces. I remember how nervous I was when I went to that artist to have her sketch my idea of Alfred's face. I have never had a very clear image of him in my head – but in a way, I think that's good. You can't really plan what your perfect partner will look like, so it will be almost as much of a surprise for me as it is for everyone else. I know you have worked hard on perfecting the face and adding in extra details that weren't on the sketch, so I am very excited to see him truly for the first time.

Don't worry about any delays. I have been patient my whole life waiting for this, and I can wait a few years longer if that's what it takes. I know the process of making and programming such a complicated and unique persocom must be incredibly difficult, although I have absolute faith in your abilities to pull it off in the end. Thank you very much for always keeping me updated on your progress.

I have a business trip to Wales this week, so until I return, I will not be able to contact you as often. If you need more money or specifications in the mean time, you can put the project on hold until I return and can send you what you need.

Have a pleasant week.

Sincerely,

Arthur.

A little under two years after their first exchange on a persocom forum, a big wooden crate was delivered from Kiku Honda in Tokyo to Arthur Kirkland in London.

Kiku had denied the plane ticket Arthur had offered him time and again, saying that he wanted to give Arthur and Alfred some time to get acquainted. He was sure there were no problems with the hand-made persocom, so he didn't worry about having to be there in case Arthur ran in to trouble and needed an expert. Everything would go smoothly, and Kiku promised to come and visit in a few months once Arthur and Alfred were settled and in love and living more-or-less happily ever after.

Now there was only one thing standing in the way of Arthur and his new persocom: the delivery man was _late_.

Despite sparing no expense on the best delivery, having someone practically hugging the box the whole way round the globe, the delivery man still managed to ruin _everything!_ The crate was due to arrive today, and Arthur had booked the whole week off work to give him some free time to settle into his new life with Alfred. (And maybe also because he knew he wouldn't be able to get any work done anyway, with how excited and nervous he was). He'd ordered for the crate to be delivered at noon, but it was already 3 p.m. and there was still no sign of delivery.

Eventually, Arthur had _had_ to run out and get tea, having drained his whole vital supply in the last few days as he spent the evenings fretting over his persocom's journey round the world.

He forgot his shoes he was that distracted, dashing out in his slippers only for them to fall off his feet as he ran down the stairs of his apartment building (in too much of a rush to wait for the elevator). He burst into the corner shop only to realise that he'd forgotten his money, but the owner knew him as a local and accepted Arthur's promise that he'd come back and pay tomorrow. Soon Arthur was rushing back to his apartment building, scooping up his slippers along the way and hurtling round the corner of his corridor on the fourth floor.

There was no note left on door, no sign that anyone had been and gone, so Arthur guessed he was safe. His body melted in relief and he heaved a sigh as he staggered over to his front door.

Just as he reached out to push it open (of _course_ he'd accidentally run out without locking it) there was a clamour of dull bangs and muffled shouts from the flat directly behind him, opposite his own. He turned round and saw the front door swinging open, revealing a big, person-sized wooden crate.

"Hey! Is that Arthur Kirkland out there?"

The crate took up almost the whole doorway, so Arthur couldn't see the man standing behind it, only an arm waving over the top to get his attention.

"Yes. I'm sorry, but…is that _my_ delivery?"

"Yeah, the guy just dropped it off but you weren't in so I signed for it."

Arthur almost shouted in dismay, but was too busy clutching the crate and dragging it out of this stranger's apartment and towards his own. "How _dare_ you! This is _my_ delivery, you can't just sign for it! What if there was a problem with it?"

"There didn't sound like there was one, the delivery guy just said he got stuck in traffic and then got lost so he was kinda late." The voice was still following the crate, now halfway into Arthur's flat. It was an American voice, young and full of self-assurance, not at all sorry for tampering with someone else's mail. Arthur was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that nobody actually lived in that flat across the hall – at last not for the past 8 months.

His attention snapped from that odd mystery to the crate, as he hit a snag on the door mat and heaved, trying to pull the massive heavy bulk of wood over the threshold. He felt the man on the other side lift the bottom and carry it a bit to help.

"It's a persocom, right?" the voice continued eagerly. "Sorry for signing for such an important package but I was just really excited to see a persocom arrive and I wanted you to get it soon as possible! I'm sure you must have been waiting for something so awesome and I didn't want you to have to call the delivery guy back or go pick it up from the depot or something."

"Yes, well, thank you very much I'm sure," Arthur huffed, twisting the crate carefully across his wooden floors so as not to leave any scratch marks. "But if you think I'm going to let you come in and watch me turn him on, you're sorely mistaken. It's not a toy – and anyway it's _mine_."

The crate was finally settled in the middle of Arthur's large living room. He ran his hands down the wooden edge of the box, feeling the rough splinters under his fingers and gazing longingly at the "This way up" stamp, as if he could see through the wood and the padding to the android inside.

Suddenly a man appeared beside him and Arthur jumped. Of course it was just the man from across the hall who'd followed him in – but in his excitement, Arthur had almost forgotten he was there for a moment.

The first thing he noticed were bright, bright blue eyes, and Arthur gasped.

"You're a persocom!"

The man laughed, loud and hard. "What?! What makes you say that?" he asked, with obvious glee.

"Your eyes. They're so blue." The man blinked and then smiled, a bit of a blush forming on his cheeks even though it wasn't much of a compliment, just a plain fact. "Oh, are they contacts?"

The man shook his head. "No, just…my eyes. They've always been like that."

Arthur's face fell. Well, how was _that_ fair?! He'd made Kiku look so hard for bright blue eyes that looked natural for his persocom, and then this boy waltzes in with stunning sky blue like it's no big deal. Well, now he knew such a shade was naturally possible, he would ask if Kiku could get new parts. Even if that was a little rude…

And glasses. Looking at them now on the young stranger's face, Arthur felt like kicking himself. Why hadn't he thought of glasses?! Of _course_ glasses were sexy!

The stranger watched Arthur's growing frown and shuffled nervously. "Um, so…I've always wanted to meet a real live persocom. Do you think I could – "

"Absolutely not."

The American deflated, but soon perked up with a new excuse to hang around. "At least let me help you open the crate and clear it all out of the way -and then I can at least _see_ it before you kick me out."

Arthur didn't really know where this boy found the audacity to sound put out that he was being kicked out of a flat he'd pretty much broken into in the first place (Arthur certainly hadn't invited him inside). But looking up at the tall box, fastened tightly, he realised he could use the help.

"Fine, but be grateful about it," he huffed.

The man nodded eagerly, golden blonde hair bouncing up and down in his eagerness. It really had amazing volume, and looked like spun gold; Arthur would have thought it was a persocom wig if he wasn't (almost) sure the boy was human. He'd ordered brown hair for his Alfred, as he'd always liked dark hair, but suddenly he could see the appeal of blonde. It suited this stranger anyway, with his obvious, Hollywood kind of looks.

All right, the man was pretty handsome. But it wasn't that Arthur was _smitten_. Of _course_ everybody liked people who looked like this American. He was…really attractive. But you couldn't just go round building your customised persocoms like that. If Arthur had had his persocom look like a movie star, it would have been a joke! You had to be vaguely modest about it when designing a persocom for yourself, not live in a fantasy world and let others mock you. So Arthur had toned down his Alfred to look handsome enough, but not _overly_ handsome, like _this_ guy. He'd gone for subtlety – a life partner who was gracefully handsome, not flashy and noticeable like the dope currently helping him pry open the crate with a crowbar.

"So how come you're getting a persocom?" the boy asked, chatting away mindlessly as Arthur focused on being careful with the crate and its precious contents. "You have a really tough job and need the help or something? I don't know anyone who has a personal persocom – not the life-size models anyway. I've seen the minis, of course. My brother got a bear one for college. I didn't have the money – they're so fricking expensive! How much did this one cost you? Gah! I'm so excited to see it! I've seen them working in town and stuff but you can't play with them properly when they're just built for a specific job."

"Nobody even _lives_ in that flat!" Arthur exclaimed out of the blue, throwing his hands in the air and staring at the American accusingly.

The man blinked up at him from where he was crouched on the floor, prying open a nail. "Yeah: _I_ live there! I just moved in last week, I guess you were too busy waiting for your delivery to notice. I tried knocking on your door a few times but I guess you weren't in or something. Nice to finally meet you!"

Looking at the boy's wide, warm smile, Arthur realised he probably should have made some specifications about that to Kiku. That was one thing they'd never really discussed, but suddenly, having a nice smile seemed rather important for his persocom.

"Likewise, I'm sure," Arthur said, lowering one side of the crate gently to the floor.

Finally the shiny white box inside was free, and Arthur and the stranger from across the hall laid it carefully on the floor of the living room.

"I'll take the crate downstairs, get it out of your hair so you don't have to worry about that tonight," the stranger offered, and Arthur nodded distractedly as he ran his hands over the smooth white plastic holding his persocom.

"You look nervous. Is it…is it _customised_?"

Arthur nodded again.

"_Wow_," the stranger breathed, sounding almost as excited as Arthur, even though he'd only been waiting 2 minutes for this moment, and Arthur had waited two _years_. Well, 33 years really, since he'd always been waiting for the day he'd meet his true love.

Arthur lifted the lid of the box slowly, but froze the moment he set eyes on the body resting on the blue cushions inside. He felt the American stranger open the lid fully on its hinges so the light could filter in and they could see properly.

"It's a boy."

Arthur smiled, though it wasn't the beam he'd been expecting after waiting so long for this magic moment. It was probably mostly that Americans fault: he'd messed it up by barging in and intruding on his special day. Once he was out of Arthur's hair and Alfred was turned on and awake, Arthur was sure he'd feel that magic spark he'd been hoping for.

"What's his name?"

"Alfred," Arthur said softly, lifting a tingling hand, buzzing with adrenaline, and stroking a fingertip down the persocom's face. The skin felt so real. Kiku was really amazing. Although, now Arthur thought about it, Alfred looked a little pale. He'd wanted dark hair and pale skin, a real suave gentleman type. James Bond without the floozy attitude. Now this _stranger_ swanning in had made Arthur think it would have been good to give Alfred a bit of a tan, just a little colour so he looked more alive.

"What?"

Arthur ran is fingers over the persocom's smooth hair.

"I know it's a little old for him, but I don't know…I've just always fancied an 'Alfred.'"

"Hey! _My_ name's Alfred!"

Arthur turned his head sl_o_wly round to grace the American with his best deadpan expression, whilst the boy himself looked simultaneously surprised, sheepish, and oddly giddy.

"You're lying," said Arthur.

"Nuh uh!" The American whipped out a wallet from his back pocket and rifled through, shoving a small laminated card into Arthur's face. Arthur leant back and frowned at the driver's license. "See? 'Alfred F. Jones.'"

Arthur's face darkened so much that he could almost see the live "Alfred" fall in shadow. The boy's eyes widened and he looked genuinely terrified, even shrinking back a little, and offering a supplicating smile.

"I…just thought it was a neat coincidence," he said. And then after a pause added: "…Sorry?"

Arthur deflated at that, knowing he'd just look insane if he carried on being annoyed at such a bizarre coincidence. (But really, this was just the universe playing obscene liberties!)

"It's not your fault I suppose," Arthur sighed, turning away. "But I do think you should change your name. You're not an Alfred."

"I'm more Alfred than _he_ is!" live-Alfred retorted, pointing rudely to the persocom lying lifelessly in the box. "I've had 22 years on him to build up the name!"

Arthur stared, mouthing '22' silently. So young, all alone, in such a nice, expensive building?

Oh, whatever! He wagged his head back and forth comically, giving up on this situation entirely. It was determined to be surreal, so Arthur decided to stop trying to handle things and just go with it.

He turned back to the sleeping-Alfred, and straightened out the lapels of the smart blazer Kiku had fitted on him.

"Is he just liked you wanted?" the other Alfred asked over his shoulder, leaning in to peer at the body in the box.

Arthur should have said yes immediately. He'd only been dreaming about this persocom for _years_, planning every last little detail. It _did_ fit all the specifications he'd asked of Kiku.

But…

Well, to be honest Arthur wasn't quite sure "but" _what_. There was just definitely a "but" in there somewhere.

"Yes. Everything looks fine."

He could feel Alfred fidgeting behind him, and knew the boy was itching to ask _why_ he had ordered such a finely built, customised persocom. And suddenly, Arthur was a little embarrassed to admit the truth.

Luckily, Alfred didn't ask. Instead he stood up, looking somewhat reluctant, and began gathering the bits of crate from the floor.

"Well, I'll leave ya to it then. You must be excited to read the manual and turn him on and stuff."

Arthur didn't nod - half distracted, and half not sure whether he really _was_ that excited.

It was only because this live-Alfred had burst in and disrupted the moment. Arthur had been waiting for this day for so long it was only natural to feel a little awkward about it after someone comes in and ruins his carefully laid plans. That must be it, Arthur was sure. It wasn't that he was _really_ disappointed with anything, or that he was having second thoughts. It's just that when you spend so long waiting for one moment, of _course_ it won't live up to your expectations. You just can't _plan_ falling in love - so obviously he shouldn't have set his hopes so high on a single moment. As soon as he turned on his persocom and got to know him, then everything would be fine. It didn't have to be love at first sight for it to be worth it.

"Arthur?"

Arthur blinked and looked up at the live-Alfred, who was frowning down at him worriedly with an armful of crate.

"Yes? I-I'm fine. Just…a little daunted by the manual and everything. I'm not very technically minded."

Alfred nodded. "I hear that. My buddy Kiku works with persocoms and it's fascinating and all, but I have no idea what the frick he's talking about."

Arthur was already standing up to help Alfred gather the wood when a little bit of that comment came back round and struck him. Like a very sharp boomerang to the brain.

"He was the one who told me about the apartment here," Alfred was blathering on. "Said he had a friend in the building I might like. It's hard to tell with him, but I _think_ he was teasing me when he said that, so I don't know, I mean, he knows my type, so maybe…Oh."

Alfred stopped dead in his tracks on the other side of the persocom box and looked at Arthur over the sleeping body of the android. His eyes were wide and mildly horrified. Arthur, too, was frozen in place, trying to make himself as invisible as possible, almost like an animal in danger – some weird part of his brain telling him that if he kept still and quiet then Alfred would look past him and this moment would be over. And hopefully the boy wouldn't feel the need to ask what _Arthur_ thought of this sudden revelation.

"Nothing!" Alfred blurted out, obviously startling himself. "I mean…what?"

Arthur stared at him. "I didn't say anything."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

Alfred bent down to gather the last of the wood, evidently trying hard to ignore the bizarre and tense atmosphere that was strangling the air around them. Arthur tried to at least laugh at the boy's stray cowlick, bobbing above his perfect head of hair. He couldn't be better than his persocom when he had silly and obvious little flaws like that. It would be the same with his personality - no matter how lovely it appeared at first glance, there would be black spots here and there.

And yet, Arthur found himself, unwillingly, seeing a strange sort of appeal in the cowlick and everything it represented. Flaws like that gave live-Alfred a natural character, unique little points that no one else would have just the same.

His persocom would never have anything like that. No little flaws Arthur could love, and feel proud to adore when no one else did. Everything had been manufactured and planned, even if it was by Arthur himself. And even though Arthur liked having control…romance wasn't about control.

Arthur Kirkland _was _a romantic. And being a romantic meant being a hopeful idiot who took stupid, stupid chances. So that's what he'd do.

"Um, Alfred? Since…you're new to the area and I have some time off work this week...I could…show you the nearest train station? And…a good Indian restaurant, if you want?"

Alfred looked up, a wide and starry-eyed gaze on his face that had Arthur's heart beating in an ever so slightly fluttery fashion.

The American laughed once, the sound bursting with relief. A blush was soon colouring his tan cheeks, and a buoyant smile spread over his lips.

"Well, I managed to find the train station last week," Alfred admitted with a grin. "But…that Indian restaurant sounds good. So…um, yeah, that'd be great. We can…hang out maybe, and you can show me round the area and do some Londony things? All my treat, as a thank you!"

Arthur nodded, feeling thoroughly left behind by this whole situation, which rather appeared to be running away with his life. Just a minute ago he'd been sitting on his sofa waiting for his persocom and the start of the rest of his life and now…

Oh, well, bugger Kiku for orchestrating this! The bastard was probably laughing in maniacal glee in his persocom lab, knowing full what he'd done and what Arthur was going through right now. Arthur hated the idea that he'd walked right into the irony for someone else's sadistic entertainment.

"So…anyway, I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for barging in and everything…"

Alfred dragged the wooden crate parts to the door, and Arthur scurried over to help him lift them without scratching the floor.

"So…tomorrow okay? Or you gonna be busy with _him_?" Alfred jerked his head in the direction of Arthur's living room.

"Um, no," said Arthur, coming to a firm and crazy decision in his mind. "I think…I think I can make some time."

Alfred beamed at him and they said their goodbyes until tomorrow, the American waving one-handed until he disappeared into the lift out of sight. And Arthur maybe gazing at the closed doors a little longer after he'd left.

Snapping out of his daze, Arthur whirled around back into his apartment. Back to that other version of Alfred lying on his living room floor.

And suddenly, the dark hair and pale skin and smart clothes didn't really look like an "Alfred" at all. No, this would never do. He'd need a new name.

But…Arthur had decided he might as well just…leave him off for a few days yet. He had plans tomorrow and there was no sense turning on his persocom if he couldn't devote his attention to it. Wait a few days until the real live Alfred had found some new friends, and then Arthur could go back to his persocom and properly appreciate it. It was the right thing to do.

As Arthur went to close the lid on Alfred's box, he noticed a corner of white paper poking out from between the blue cushions and Alfred's grey trousers. Arthur pulled it out and opened the folded note.

"_To Arthur, _

_You try very hard to be sensible, and I admire that about you. _

_But you are romantic, Arthur. Never forget that. You have a duty to faith, hope, and love. Most people ignore them, but I know you are brave enough to take a chance. So don't let your brain tell you what's best. It's your heart that really knows._

_From,_

_Kiku_

_P.S. In case you were wondering, I don't usually accept refunds. But for the sake of true love I think I can make an exception. (Also, I know young Mr. Jones is the jealous type, so I wouldn't want one of my creations to get in the way of his happiness, or yours.)"_

…

Bastard. Utter bastard.

* * *

**Author Note:** If you were wondering about Alfred's "type", as he told Kiku: he likes older men, green eyes, and accents (especially English). He has just discovered a thing for shorter guys with blonde hair and feisty attitudes, too.


End file.
